(the rest is) silence
by DefinitelyNotPie
Summary: A few precious moments in time for Alistair and the Warden as they embark on the most difficult mission of their lives.


It had been almost unnervingly quiet for a good hour. Alistair was used to the silence by now, his companion was often prone to bouts of inward contemplation. He tried to enjoy the stillness, looking at their surroundings with disheartened half-interest.

"We're going in circles!" she huffed, frowning at the crossroad before them and turning to look back along the way they'd just come.

Alistair frowned and shook his head.

"No, this is the right way," was all he said.

"It's louder… we must be getting close." she said, her voice dripping from the thick walls.

Alistair nodded in agreement, but said nothing more. He knew they'd get there eventually, whether he heard anything or not.

They traveled for a while in companionable silence, carefully navigating the catacombs and seeking out straggling darkspawn. Thus far, they hadn't run into any large numbers but it was inevitable.

* * *

"So what do you think?" She said, looking up at him with those soft, green eyes that he loved so much.

"What do I think of what, my dear?" he asked, concern clouding his face.

She wrinkled her nose and giggled, "Your 'dear', am i? You're so funny, Ali."

His breath hitched and he forced himself to laugh. "You know me… Silly to the end," his voice breaking on the last word. He coughed around it, and straightened. "So-?"

"Aeducan or Harrowmont, of course." She said finally, "Bhelen is an insufferable ass, but I wonder if he isn't exactly what Orzammar needs right now."

"Sure," Alistair said, " Bhelen would… would probably be great."

She nodded sagely, staring off into the distance, deep within her own head.

"Yeah…" She murmured absently.

"Where is Zevran?" She switched topics suddenly, turning on her heels and looking around for the elf.

Once the rapid subject change would have thrown Alistair for a loop, but of late it was becoming commonplace. He looked at her and frowned, throat tightening, "I'm sure he'll turn up, my dear. He's always been good at that sort of… getting-out-of-scrap… py stuff, yeah?"

He gently put an arm around her shoulder, turning her back to face their path. His eyes stung with tears and he swallowed thickly, "Let's not worry about it."

* * *

As they were walking, Alistair felt a familiar tingling that ran up his arms and he drew his sword.

"Darkspawn. Again." he said, just as three genlocks came out of the shadows of what had looked like a ruined tunnel.

She laughed, a sound like crystal; vibrant and beautiful, but fragile. She turned her head towards him.

"This will be fun! Just like old times." Then she drew her blades and marked the nearest creature for death.

The three genlocks were no real challenge, all things considered, and with a final bash to the face the last one dropped at Alistair's feet. He reached down, wiping his sword clean against the creature's filthy tunic.

He looked back at her to see she was still smiling. Utterly feral and wholly in her element. She sheathed her blades, ichor and all, into the scabbards across her back. Alistair knew she didn't notice and he decided it didn't matter in the long run anyway.

He knew they were getting close. He could feel the darkspawn horde in his bones, even if he didn't hear what his lover did.

When it was quiet again, they continued further into the Thaig.

She smiled at him and when he smiled back she blushed, shyly looking away. Alistair's face fell and he spun away from her, looking back down the path from which they'd come.

* * *

"Where is that damned elf?!" She groaned, casting a look over her shoulder and pressing on even as Alistair slowed their pace as he walked backwards, willing with his whole heart and soul for the Antivan to appear and join them once more.

Alistair clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and returning to her side.

"I don't know where Zevran is." He said finally.

She gasped and stopped short, looking up at him again with those eyes. "Alistair… my love, you know Zevran is dead." Her lip trembled and he rushed to place a gentle kiss to her mouth.

Of course he knew Zevran was dead. Their friend was almost five years gone now.

"I just meant… like, is he with the Maker?" He tried to sound convincing, "Or some sort of Dalish heaven…"

A single tear escaped, gathering in the crow's feet at the corner of her eye and slipping down her tawny cheek. He wiped it away with the pad of this thumb.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say.

She stood still for a moment, just looking up at him. He waited to see if she would reach for him, knowing that attempting to embrace her was something of a gamble as of late.

Her brows nit in confusion and she reached a hand to cup his face.

"Did you get something in your hair?" She asked. He stepped back from her and ran a hand through his greying locks.

"Nothing. Must be the light in here." He laughed, perhaps more harshly than he'd intended. "You should see your hair!" He smiled, recovering with a joke.

Her smile back at him was tentative and she absently pulled at one her braids. Then she closed her eyes and began to sway. His chest clenched as an eerie contentment fell over her beautiful face.

"Mmmm it's louder. We must be getting closer. Won't be long now… It's so beautiful… Ali… so beautiful… Can you hear it?"

"Yes," he lied, "of course I do."

She stepped forward, slipping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest, leading him into a lazy dance.

He could hear something, though. And he could feel something… a few dozen darkspawn and what was undoubtedly an ogre or two, finally coming towards them from down one of the many abandoned tunnels.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her snowy hair.

The rumbling of the darkspawn melted into a dull, roaring din as it drew nearer.

Alistair choked back a sob. "I love you. Always."

She went still in his arms, then slowly looked up at him… with those soft green eyes that he loved so much… now clouded over with Taint and age.

"You do?" She asked softly, her husky voice managing to sound innocent and hopeful. He nodded, kissing her.

She threw her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and whimpering softly. Alistair felt the relief could have crushed him if he didn't have her to cling to. He silently thanked the Maker that he got to tell her one last time, and that she understood, before the Calling took her mind completely.

His tears were in earnest now, as determined and immeasurable as the darkspawn bearing down on them both. Two old lovers, on a final mission in the Deep Roads.

She pulled away from the kiss, smiling distantly, "We're here…" she sighed.

"That's right, my love." Alistair said, "We can rest now."

She hummed pleasantly, "I'm gonna sleep for a week!"

Alistair could only nod and press his face into her neck, breathing her in one last time, before they were swept away by the wave of darkspawn.


End file.
